


Go for it anyway

by ishouldbeinlab



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Slow Burn, idk romance just moves really slowly post-undergrad, just some real life flirting and we'll see how it goes, they're in grad school/adult life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-09-17 07:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16970724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishouldbeinlab/pseuds/ishouldbeinlab





	1. Lance

“Are you getting a refill?” Keith asked from his spot, cross-legged on the floor.

“Yeah, want me to get you?” Lance offered, reaching his hand out for Keith’s cup.

“Naw, I’ll come. I want more cheese.” He replied, rising and following Lance out to the kitchen.

Lance ladled more sangria into his cup, then Keith’s, as they idly picked at the food left on the table from the friendsgiving party. Lance sipped his, chewing on the fruit that flowed into his mouth. Keith did a double-take.

“Did you just eat a cranberry?” he asked incredulously.

“…Yeah” Lance responded upon swallowing the last of the bitter berry.

“But _why_?” Keith laughed.

“It’s a great counterbalance to the sweetness of the drink!” Lance explained, cracking a grin.

“That’s so weird!” Keith was incapable of stemming his giggles, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

_Must be tipsy._ Lance thought, gazing at him. He could feel his face echoing Keith’s happiness and he couldn’t control the dopey smile he knew must be stretching across his face.  _Huh. I must be tipsy too._ “They aren’t that bad, you should try one! And I’m relatively sure they’re edible.” Lance teased, popping another one into his mouth.

“Edible!” Keith’s giggles redoubled, laughing at Lance, but nevertheless, fishing a cranberry from his cup. “I’ll try it, but I won’t like it”

“Yeah, yeah, you never know!” Lance egged him on with glee, a little shocked and very pleased that Keith had risen to the challenge so readily.

Keith bit down slowly, already pulling a face of extreme skepticism and caution. It quickly turned to one of disgust, and he spat it into a napkin as Lance burst out laughing.

“Ugh, Lance that was _disgusting!_ What is _wrong_ with you?!” Keith hastily gulped his drink to get the taste out of his mouth.

Lance was still cackling. “I mean, they aren’t great,” he gasped through giggles, “but now I have to keep eating them because no one else will!”

“That makes no sense, dude!” Keith erupted in renewed laughs, setting Lance off again as well.

When they finally got their laughter under control, they turned to head back towards the living room, where they could hear music and the sounds of a rousing game of kings pressing on without them. Keith looked into his cup thoughtfully.

“You know, I bet I could catch these in my mouth.” He stated.

Lance lit up, smiling giddily at him. “I will _gladly_ chuck things at your face, Big K.” he replied.

“Okay!” Keith agreed excitedly, “but over here so no one can see.” He said, steering Lance into the narrow hallway.

Lance’s stomach did a weird lurching thing like he was on a drop-ride at the same time that his chest seemed to balloon up, and he practically floated after Keith. _Huh- that’s… different._ He mused. _Oh well, that is future-Lance’s problem._ He concluded, smiling warmly at Keith, who was bouncing a little from foot to foot as he eagerly waited, head tipped slightly back. Lance squared up to release his cranberry. _Nope, no problem here._


	2. Lance

“Za-n-koku na te-nshi no you ni, sho-wonem yo, shinwa ni nare...”

Lance’s hand slammed down on his phone, cutting his alarm off. Ugh. Why was he so tired? Right. Last night was trivia night, so he had gotten home late. They had come in second last night, Lance remembered fondly, having only lost the tie-breaker. It was rare these days to get the whole gang out to trivia, what with everyone being so busy, but last night the stars had aligned, and the question categories had proved that the night was fated.

The first round was current events, which they were all usually pretty good at, but the tougher questions about international affairs fell to Shiro, Allura’s boyfriend. They had met in undergraduate school but had only started dating after Shiro had returned from his time with the Peace Corps and Allura had finished her PhD. Now he worked for the state department and traveled a ton. He had sweet-talked them into basing him in the same city has Allura, though, so whenever he was home, they all usually got to see him.  

The mystery round turned out to be movie cameos, with references so niche Shiro had slowly pushed their answer sheet towards the middle of the table, eyes wide as he shook his head in defeat.

“Who _knows_ this stuff?” Allura had whispered, shocked.

A hand reached out and slowly pulled the pen and paper towards them. “I know this stuff.” Keith shrugged and smiled. Pidge and Hunk high-fived next to him.

“And number 10, the last question for this section, this director and his two children had different cameos in each movie of the trilogy they directed. What director, and what trilogy?”

Keith’s hand stalled above the paper and his head whipped up in panic. “I don’t know this one!” he whispered, disbelieving. He looked crushed- they usually didn’t do this well on the mystery round and it was clear that his knowledge had stoked the competitive spirits of all of them.

“I do!” Lance practically shouted, slamming his hands down on the table, tipping himself forward and out of his chair in excitement. They all turned to him in hopeful surprise, Pidge’s mouth falling open in astonishment.

“Great! But keep it down!” Allura shushed him, motioning for him to calm down. Lance was bouncing up and down.

“It’s Peter Jackson! In all three LOTR movies!” Lance whispered urgently to Keith.

“LOTR?”

“Lord of the Rings, you numbskull!” Lance pressed on, “He was in Bree in the Fellowship, the battle of Helm’s Deep in the Two Towers, and I think in the Return of the King he’s on one of the ships of Umbars. And his kids were hobbits and-”

“HA! Nerd.” Pidge snorted. Hunk giggled and clapped him on the back proudly. Allura’s stoney face lit back up and she punched the air in triumph.

Keith look amused, eyebrows raised as he wordlessly handed the paper to Lance.

They entered round three with a perfect score.

 

Round three was the notorious song round. Ten songs were played, and the teams had to name the song and the artist for a full point. Guessing the theme that tied the songs together earned you a bonus point. Allura and Pidge jumped up and switched seats, so that Hunk and Allura could sit next to each other. They were lyrical geniuses. They mumbled to each other, heads close together, as each song came on. Occasionally another team member would sit up, ready to name the tune playing, but Hunk and Allura were always quicker on the draw. It was a wonder to behold. Keith peered over Hunk’s shoulder, quietly reading the names and artists out to the rest of the team so that they could brainstorm themes.

“They all have themes of heartbreak?” Shiro offered, only to be proven wrong by the subsequent song.

“Uh, they all… wait… never mind.” Lance sighed.

“Helpful.” Keith smirked at him.

The songs finished and Hunk and Allura sat up, beaming. They pushed the list into the middle of the table and they all leaned in, staring at it.

“Got a theme yet?” Hunk asked.

“Getting there…” Keith responded, eyes running down the list.

“They… all the artists!” Pidge exclaimed, “They all were nominated for the Grammy’s but have never won!”

“Yeah buddy!” Lance fist pounded her.

“How do you know that?” Hunk asked, impressed. Pidge was generally pretty ignorant about pop culture. That usually fell to Keith, who had a weirdly encyclopedic knowledge of celebrities. He chalked it up to watching too many E! specials. Lance called him an unfaithful groupie.

“I always watch them with my Mom.” Pidge flushed fondly. “We make brackets.”

The fourth round was always a sheet of pictures. This time they had to name the show within a show.

“That’s Itchy and Scratchy!” Shiro pointed as Allura jotted down their answers. “From the Simpsons.”

“That’s from the O.C., the fake show is called the Valley.” Keith offered. Lance glanced at him, gleeful at the ammunition, but saved his mocking for later. It was game time.

“This looks like anime… Lance?” Allura pointed to the next picture. Lance squinted at it.

“It’s familiar… I know what it is, but it’ll take a minute. Keep going.” He leaned onto the table, studying the woman wearing a cowboy hat. The team filled out the rest of the pictures one-by-one. Just as their attention turned back to Lance it came to him.

“Got it!” he grinned. “Big Shot for Bounty Hunters! It’s from Cowboy Bebop! Wow they are really challenging us this go around.” He mused.

“Maybe it’s just a plot to identify the weebs among us.” Pidge teased.

“Regardless, we are _crushing_ it!” Allura hissed with relish.

“But we’re mostly here for the fun and the memories, right guys?” Hunk said, raising his drink to cheers.

They mirrored him, raising glasses and bottles.

“To friendship.” Hunk said, warmly holding them all in his gaze.

“And decimating the competition!” Allura added, fire in her eyes. Shiro gave her a concerned look.

“And complementary knowledge of useless information!” Lance finished. They clinked their drinks together.

 

The fifth and final round of trivia was a bunch of random questions, increasing in difficulty and point value as they went. Most of the questions could be answered by one of their teammates, each chiming in as they thought of answers. A few warranted more discussion, but nothing was left blank- a miracle for their team.

“Question six:” the announcer’s voice rang through the bar, “name the four lobes of the brain.”

Keith, Allura, and Hunk all stared slack-jawed at each other, eyes wide with glee. They almost never asked science questions, never mind _neuro_ science questions. Finally, their time to shine had come.

“And functions!” Hunk yelled at the announcer, chuckling. If this wasn’t an omen of their assured victory, what was?

The game ended in a tie between their team and a group of rowdy dudebros sitting in the corner. Ties were broken through a beer chugging contest. They had a quick huddle when it was announced.

“Okay who’s the soberest right now?” Pidge asked.

“Nah my dude, we want whoever is the _drunkest_! That’s when you can really chug.” Hunk reasoned.

“Shiro, it has to be you.” Allura looked at him gravely, the attention of every other team member following. Lance had heard stories about Shiro’s college days from Allura—apparently, he had been quite the party animal—but Shiro had always seemed perfectly respectable in front of him.

“I can’t…” Shiro replied, his tone as serious as Allura’s. It would have been funny if it weren’t clear how much they actually cared in this moment. “Those days are behind me.”

Allura reached for his hand and held it in hers, smiling up at him with immense tenderness. “We’re behind you no matter what happens, babe. You have the best shot of any of us, though.”

If Lance didn’t think anyone stood a chance against Allura when she was stubborn and competitive, no one had a prayer when she was kind and supportive. He usually only saw this side of her when something had gone extraordinarily wrong and he was very vulnerable. Shiro caved immediately, as Lance knew he would.

Shiro rose to the occasion and downed his beer in seconds, their whole team screaming and cheering him on. As fast as Shiro was, however, dudebro was a shade faster. They lost by nanoseconds. No one was angry though, they charged Shiro for a group hug like they had just won the Olympics. Even Allura didn’t care about their defeat, eyes shining as she pulled him down for a celebratory kiss. The second-place prize was a $10 coupon to the bar, which suited them just fine.


	3. Lance

_Keith_

**Lance**

 

> _Hey you’re going to Allura’s thing tonight right? When are you aiming to get there?_

 

> **For sure!**

**Just got out of the shower though, sooo**

**They said 8:30? I’ll be later**

 

> _Yeah I’m semi regretting my choice of outfit and I hate all of my clothes so I may be similarly tardy_

 

> **Hmmm I predict you’ll wear black and it’ll be great**

 

> _How astute!_

 

> **What’s your byob?**

 

> _I just got a bottle of wine_

 

> **wow smart!**

**Ugh I want to bring this tequila but the bottle is large and we don’t use plastic bottles**

 

> _Go big or go home I suppose_

 

> **true, I do need enough to pressure you into shots**

 

> _very little pressure required. A mere suggestion, perhaps_

_Do you know where we’re going tonight?_

 

> **word on the street is we’re headed to Bar Altea**

 

> _omg seriously_

_Yeah we'll need that tequil_

 

> **I gotchu. You ubering over?**

 

> _Yeah dude, it’s cold af_

 

> **Yeah, I guess walking would be a mistake**

**Wait you doing winter coat or no??**

 

> _Naw… outer shell is probs a jean jacket_

_Hence the uber_

 

> **Alright alright I’ll see ya over there**

 

> _My uber is leaving now, for time reference_

 

> **Dammit seriously? Charlie will be here in 2 minutes! We should have split**

 

> _Rookie mistake!_

 

It was Allura’s birthday weekend and she was in rare form. She wheeled about her house, happily introducing people and bouncing from conversation to conversation. Lance was listening to Coran explain the contents of the punch he had made, genuinely impressed by how incredible it tasted.

“Coran this stuff is lethal!” Lance exclaimed. “I could drink this forever.”

“See that’s why I was social chair of the physics club in college!” Coran replied happily.

“Honestly, we can just chase our shots with this! Then we don’t need to slice your sad lemon.” Keith smirked at Lance. Lance had shown up to the pregame carrying a banana, half a lemon, and tequila in an empty half-gallon apple cider carton that Lance had chugged the last quarter of shortly before his uber arrived. Keith had collapsed in a fit of laughter when he walked in.

“It was all I had!” Lance protested.

“And what is the banana for, pray tell.” Coran asked curiously.

“Health!” Lance grinned, peeling and taking a bite of the banana.

The night passed amicably, Lance met several cool new people and got to see a different side of Coran and Allura than he usually saw at work. Hunk was out of town, but Pidge eventually showed up, having been held up at work.

Lance wasn’t sure what to make of twinge of satisfaction he felt each time he found himself standing next to Keith during the pregame. He also didn’t know what to make of the frequency with which they sought one another out. Once he started paying attention, a clear pattern formed. They would drift away from one another, talking to separate people or refilling on snacks, only to find themselves side by side within a matter of minutes. As if they were being drawn together. Or it was all in Lance’s head? Was it all in his head? Was he the one chasing Keith around the party like a lost puppy? No, that can’t be it because he had purposefully stayed put the last time they’d separated, but here comes Keith, like freaking clockwork. Is Keith aware of this previously unknown law of physics? Wait is Keith doing it on purpose?!

“You doing alright?” Keith’s voice broke into the jumble of Lance’s thoughts.

“Yeah, of course! Are _you_ doing okay?” Lance parried, quickly trading what must have been a look of intense thought for his usual playful grin.

Keith rolled his eyes. “It’s a party Lance! You’re supposed to stop thinking about serious crap and have fun!”

“I am having fun!” Lance pouted. “I’m just also… thinking. Thinking is fun, you should try it sometime.” Lance nudged him with his elbow mockingly.

Keith pursed his lips, “Yeah I’m not sure I want to take part in whatever kind of thinking goes on in _your_ mind. It’s probably like a rowdy Thanksgiving dinner up in there.” He said, pointing at Lance’s head.

“I’ll take it over the stuffy library that must be yours.” Lance shot back, smiling down at Keith. Smiling down at him. Why was he looking down at him? Lance balked as he realized how close they were standing. Their usual arrangement of shoulder-to shoulder buddy system had slowly shifted until they were staring into each other’s faces, inches apart. Lance’s face suddenly felt extremely hot. “Uh, I gotta pee.” He mumbled and scurried away to the bathroom.

When did this mild interest bloom into a full-blown ill-advised crush?! Lance splashed his face with water and took deep breaths to steady himself. Those. Eyes. They were going to be the death of him. The way Keith seemed to stare straight into his very _soul_ when they made eye-contact… and the way Lance couldn’t bring himself to dislike it. He was so screwed.

 ~

The night passed in a blur of drinking and dancing. Bar Altea was known for its drunken eclectic vibe, free candy necklaces, and cheap plastic toys. Keith had eaten two whole candy necklaces off of his own neck. "This is better than alcohol!" he had buzzed, on a drunken sugar-high. Lance had idly wondered what Keith's candy necklace would taste like... 

Lance lost track of how many shots he bought them that night. They ended up closing out the bar. 

The roomie after party was a sacred tradition. Hunk, Pidge, and Lance usually made their way to the kitchen after any event, pulling out snacks and chatting. With Hunk gone it was just Lance and Pidge, but they beelined to the kitchen, flushed and giggling. Lance brewed tea for the two of them and they leaned against the counter, blowing on their mugs. “Can I tell you something?” Lance asked.

“Of course.” Pidge replied.

“You can’t tell anyone.” Lance warned.

“Alright.” Pidge agreed.

“I have a crush on Keith.” Lance let out with a rush. Relief flooded him, followed quickly by mortification.

“Oh.” Said Pidge. She did not sound surprised, although neither did she sound like she expected it. Pidge was great at taking bombshells. Lance was the dramatic one in this duo.

“AH forget I said anything!” he cried. “UGH I’M SO EMBARRASSED!”

“Don’t be!” Pidge knocked her shoulder against his. “It’s totally normal and I won’t tell anyone. What’s there to be embarrassed about?”

“I like him a lot.” Lance said in a small voice, not meeting her eyes.

“Oh…” Pidge frowned, “I’m sorry? I think that’s still okay though, right?”

“No, like… I really really like him. And I have no idea what he thinks of me.” Lance huffed. “Thank god I’m drunk- I needed to tell someone so badly but I was too chicken shit. Sorry for dumping this on you, Pidge.”

“Not at all,” Pidge’s concern faded into a smile. “I’m glad you told me. We’ll figure this out, don’t worry.”

~

Lance threw his weight against the perpetually-stuck front door, busting it open with a jolt and a clatter of their mail slot. He melted into smiles at the sight of his roommate Pidge sitting crossed-legged on the couch knitting, Rover curled up next to him.

“This scene is so domestic it hurts.” Lance cooed.

“Yeah, me sitting in the dark attempting to learn a new skill that I really _anticipated being easier_ is adorable, Lance.” She replied, gritting her teeth in concentration. Pidge was an absolute genius when it came to any intellectual pursuit under the sun. Knitting, however, a hobby she had picked up to keep her hands busy and in an attempt to create something nice for her mom, turned out to be her kryptonite.

Lance grabbed water from the kitchen and came back to the living room, torn between leaving to shower after his run and talking to Pidge for a little.

“I think we should debrief about last night.” Pidge beat him to the punch.

Lance groaned and threw himself onto the other couch. “I don’t wanna…” he whined, “I’m so embarrassed.”

“That’s what you kept saying last night,” Pidge mused, “but I don’t think a crush is anything to be ashamed of. They happen to the best of us!” This was true. Even Pidge, the paragon of emotional stability, had been known to catch the bug occasionally. Mostly crushing on professors and researchers, but hey, still counts.

“UGH-“ Lance groaned into a pillow, “but not to me! I haven’t felt anything for anyone since Nyma dumped me a year and a half ago! And it’s been shockingly nice!” Lance had been in and out of serious and semi-serious relationships since he was 17. Nyma, the most recent and longest romantic endeavor of his life, had severely messed with him when she dumped him two weeks after he had been hospitalized with acute encephalitis. Now he half-jokingly referred to himself as a “reformed serial-monogamist” and was thoroughly enjoying spending all his time on himself and his friends. That was until a certain _someone_ had set up shop in his prefrontal cortex, consuming his waking and sleeping thoughts.

“Yeah, well, that was never going to last forever, you knew that.” Pidge waved her hand dismissively. “I really don’t think you should feel bad about it! At least you’re being honest this time.”

“True… I thought it might mitigate the power of the crush if I exposed it.” Lance pulled his face out of the pillow to look back at Pidge. “Although honestly I think drunk-Lance told you out of desperation so that he wouldn’t tell Keith.” He groaned again.

“Fair enough,” Pidge chuckled lightly. “Have you told anyone else?”

“My sisters over Thanksgiving. I thought that would make it go away. But apparently not…” he shoved his face back into the pillow, defeated. Then jerked back up to look at Pidge with sudden urgency. “So no one here knows. Not even Hunk. Please don’t say anything!”

“Of course not.” Pidge answered easily. Despite her intelligence, wit, and sarcasm far outstripping any of her friends, Pidge had always managed to be a kind and solid presence through the turmoil of other people’s emotions. “You don’t want to tell Hunk?” she asked.

“I don’t think so,” Lance fidgeted, “He’s best friends with both of us and I think he would feel weird keeping it a secret? Also… I think he would worry about me.” Lance finished a little sheepishly.

Pidge nodded. “He worries about all of us all the time.” She sighed fondly, “But I think you’re right- he would definitely stress about this.”

Lance hating admitting it, because Hunk was a gold soul. He wouldn’t be bothered by the fact that Lance was crushing, or even the thought of his two best friends getting together. No, the fact that Hunk would be worried stemmed only from the reality that Lance was in a very precarious position. One in which most timelines involved him getting hurt. Saying it out loud both steadied him and sent him deeper into despair, and the couch. “What am I going to dooo?”

“Well step one is to not ignore it- crushes thrive in secrecy,” Pidge considered, “so good job on that one! Now we just have to figure out what you _can_ do, to be honest.” She continued.

“Maybe it’ll fade over the holidays,” Lance offered, only halfheartedly hopeful, “I mean, he leaves Saturday and I won’t see him again until after New Year’s.”

“Just like it faded over Thanksgiving?” Pidge smirked.

Lance just groaned again and buried his face back in the couch.

“Alright, so that’s plan A,” Pidge continued gently, “but we need backups. In my experience there are really only two ways to move on from a crush. Confront them or distract yourself with someone else.”

Lance looked miserable.

“I don’t think we’re there yet,” Pidge hurried on, “we honestly don’t even have a read on how Keith feels.”

Lance flinched at the sound of his name. “He probably has no idea.” Lance sighed. “I think I’m suffering alone.”

“Oh, don’t wallow!” Pidge huffed, “We don’t know anything yet. What does the data tell us?”

Lance stared at her blankly. “I wouldn’t know. My project is failing and all of my data is garbage.” He monotoned.

Pidge scoffed and threw a bundle of yarn at him. Lance batted it out of the air, smiling in spite of himself.

“This will _not_ turn into a full-blown pity party!” Pidge cried, laughing. “One problem at a time, you sad-sack. Okay to recap, we don’t know if Keith likes you back. We don’t even know if Keith is queer.” Pidge was back to business and Lance collapsed back in exasperation. “What I don’t understand,” she continued, “is why you can’t tell how he feels. You’re a pretty good judge of character, and quite attuned to other’s emotions. How is he baffling you?”

Lance’s eyes widened at the sudden, blunt, praise, but he didn’t comment. “Uh,” Lance stammered, turning slightly pick, “I’m afraid to say any of it out loud…” he mumbled, “I don’t know what to think.” Pidge was right about Lance usually being able to pick up on other’s feelings. Which was precisely why he felt so vulnerable right now. He was wildly out of his depth.

“It’s okay,” Pidge encouraged softly, “we’re just parsing through the data. Just tell me how you see things and we’ll interpret it ourselves.”

Lance took a deep breath and held it, thinking. “It’s like… he’s always looking into my eyes. Ever since we met.” Lance’s blush intensified, Pidge nodded slowly. “And at first I thought it was just him,” Lance started to talk faster, “but when I paid attention to it, I realized, nope, he really does make eye contact with me more than anyone else. Even if we’re in a large group. Even before we really knew each other!” The words were falling rapidly from his mouth now. “And that would be bad enough because I’m a total sucker for eye contact, but then we once had this conversation about the things that we hate, and I told him I have really sensitive teeth and can’t bite into ice cream and that certain sounds physically hurt my teeth,” if Pidge was shocked by these floodgates opening she didn’t show it, calmly absorbing it all, “and he told me that he hates eyes. Like _hates_ them. Can’t wear contacts, can’t watch people put in contacts. And then he said that he even hates making eye contact because eyes are so gross.” Lance looked at Pidge significantly, Pidge just waited for him to continue. “But we were making deep eye contact during this whole conversation!” Lance threw his hands in the air. “So I just said ‘Really?’ while maintaining the eye contact because I was genuinely surprised and confused and I _still_ don’t know what to make of it! How does he not see that blatant juxtaposition?! Is he an idiot or is he just _toying_ with me?! I don’t even know which I would prefer at this point!” Lance finished, exasperated.

Pidge hummed thoughtfully, tugging at her yarn. “So, the question is whether Keith is aware that he’s flirting with you or not.” She stated evenly.

Lance’s stomach lurched, and he almost asked if she thought Keith was actually flirting with him but stopped himself. This story was through Lance’s own lens; it was undoubtedly colored by his own desires. He wanted to know if Pidge had picked up on anything just from seeing the two of them interact, but he knew Pidge would not volunteer her opinion unless he asked, and the words stuck in his throat.

Maybe he didn’t want to know.


	4. Lance

Lance stared at his laptop blankly, the sparse outline he had just typed silently mocking him. Second year graduate students in his department were required to take a grant writing course, where they would end up submitting their first NIH grants. Lance had two semi-failed projects fresh on his heels at this point and he wasn’t sure he had another one in him. The next one needed to be more intentional, more _his_. To that end, his mentor’s frustratingly hands-off approach was pushing him in that direction. This was such a perfect opportunity to decide what he would probably end up pursuing for his thesis. _Way to stay chill and take the pressure off._ Lance sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. He and Coran had been emailing back and forth about this Specific Aims, the page of the grant that lays out your basic proposed lines of inquiry and sets up the reasoning behind them, for two weeks now. He could have sworn his last draft was getting close to where it needed to be. But then he had received the document back with red comments and edits all over it. He was getting much better at not taking the criticism personally. In fact, most days he managed to be really grateful for it, but it was still hard. _Still workin’ on the people pleasing thing I suppose._ He cracked his back and absentmindedly stroked Rover, curled up on his lab.

Lance wouldn’t feel as desperate and useless as he did if it weren’t for his time constraint. Keith was having everyone over to his apartment later to watch the Super Bowl and Lance really didn’t want to be thinking about this still. Lance personally didn’t give a hoot who won, or even about the game in general. If anything, all the research about traumatic brain injury (much of which had been done at his university) made him despise the sport. But Keith loved it with a ferocious, dweeby passion. And Lance loved… hanging out with his friends! Just like any normal dude, okay?

One time Keith had completely stopped responding in their groupchat, going uncharacteristically silent for almost an entire day in spite of several hilarious, topical memes Lance had sent. Much later they received a message apologizing and explaining that the Panthers had been tied up and then lost. He had moped for another day and a half.

Whenever Shay visited, she and Keith would inevitably launch into lengthy conversations about very specific players, games, and sundry other sport things. Hunk and Lance would smirk at each other and space out for a while. “What sport is this?” Lance would occasionally check, it was always changing. Keith snickered every. damn. time. And then he would answer and launch into a lengthy explanation of whatever rule or role that had Lance confused. He retained none of it. But Keith was really cute when he got fired up about things other than science that Lance just kept on asking him questions.

Lance abandoned his efforts in favor of making yet another cup of ginger tea. Hunk was in the kitchen meal prepping for the week and they chatted as they moved around one another in the tight space, always completely in sync. _We are never moving._ Lance thought to himself, smiling. It was their mantra that they repeated to each other. It stemmed from the relief of finally moving into a place with the intention to stay, after moving almost every year of undergrad. It was also an affirmation that they both adored living together, and they were good at it. Lance had never met anyone who was on the same page about every aspect of sharing space and responsibility. They never had to discuss a chore chart or the like due to their almost scary understanding and easy give-and-take they’d developed. Lance loved doing dishes and generally kept the kitchen clean during the weeks when Hunk was usually too busy to help much. Hunk always took the trash out because he knew how much Lance hated it. They had whole conversations with one another through the favors they did one another. Primary love language? Absolutely acts of service.

“I think we’re going to have to ask people to clean the fridge out soon,” Hunk said, opening the door, “it’s starting to smell funny.”

“And by ‘people’, you mean Pidge.” Lance smirked, popping a spoonful of peanut butter into his mouth—he was completely addicted to it.

Their phones buzzed almost in unison.

 

> _Hey, weird question, but do you guys have extra coasters you could bring tonight?_

Hunk and Lance read the message at the same time, Hunk smiling and Lance cackling out loud.

“So on brand!” Lance exclaimed, “Our delightful little neat-freak. This is why he should just let us host things.”

Hunk chuckled. “Yeah, but it’s pretty much just this that he hosts. It’s nice to go over there at least once a year. I almost feel bad always having people over.”

“Eh, they love it.” Lance waved his hand dismissively. “But you’re right, it’s nice to spread the love. And see what a real adult apartment looks like.” Lance privately wondered what it would be like to be in it more often. What it would be like to be in it alone. The apartment, that is. Wow he used to beat these kinds of thoughts away with sticks. Now he just lets the fantasies go rogue? He was so, so screwed.

~

The game turned out to be the one of the most boring Super Bowl games in living history. Which is saying a lot because Lance always found this crap boring. The commercials were sub-par as well, adding insult to injury.

The good news is the snacks were plentiful and excellent- Keith always came through on hosting, even if he didn’t do it often. Hunk was the big cooker in the friend group, but Keith’s baking skills were unmatched. The little football cupcakes of today were sublime. Lance had to strategically place himself far away from them.

Shortly after halftime Pidge got up and started making moves to leave. Lance immediately honed in on her nervous energy and swooped in like a hawk.

“Where ya off to Pidgey?” he crooned.

“I promised someone I’d watch the second half with them.” She said, turning scarlet.

“Pidge is seeing someone?!” Keith sputtered; this was big news.

“It’s really new…” she tried, “seriously not a big deal.”

Lance smirked. “What date is this Pidge? Fourth in like two weeks?”

Pidge’s embarrassment deepened. “…sixth.” She answered. “But a lot of them are just hangouts, not date dates!”

Hunk whistled low. Pidge hadn’t dated anyone in a long time and she certainly didn’t take to spending so much time with anyone this fast.

“I know right?!” Lance’s eyes twinkled gleefully. He felt a little bad about outing Pidge like this, but he knew she wanted them all to know, even if she never would have brought it up herself. “It’s pretty serious! They went to _yoga_ together!”

“Are you hooking up too?” Allura pressed lightly.

Pidge, face still burning, nodded.

“Couldn’t lead with the sex, Lance?” Keith scoffed. “Is that really your idea of serious dating? _We_ could go to yoga together!”

Suddenly all the air in the room was gone. There is was. Keith saw their friendship as so categorically platonic that he was using it as an example.

Pidge, apparently, took this little comment the opposite way. Her eyes lit up and a smile tugged at her cheek. “Yeah, Lance. You two _could_ do yoga together!”

The gremlin got her revenge—now Lance’s face was burning.

“Anyone can be banging,” he defended, trying to pass his embarrassment off as about his yoga comment, “but if someone convinced Pidge to go to yoga, she’s smitten.”

The room hummed in agreement and Pidge smiled in spite of herself.

“Yeah, yeah. We shall see.” She waved as she gathered her stuff and left.

The rest of the evening passed amicably, peppered with the standard banter. Lance did his best to respond as he usually did, but his heart was in his feet, making it difficult to be his bouncy self. A lack of a cutting comeback to one of Allura’s jabs earned him a sharp look from Keith, but he recovered quickly and no one else seemed to notice.


	6. Keith

_Hey what are you doing tonight?_ . . .*delete*

_Yo do you have any plans later?_ . . . *delete*

_Are you busy? I wanna hang out. . ._ *delete*

 

_> > Hey I’m feeling social but also lazy. Would you wanna do a movie night or something tonight? _*delivered*

Keith sighed. Why was that so hard? They were friends! Friends hung out! Friends had movie nights where they would invite other people and act disappointed that no one else would come because Keith knew full well that all their other friends were busy or gone that night. Right? Right.

>> **omg YES. That is precisely the speed for this evening.**

>> **I’m deep cleaning the apt rn too so you’ll be able to actually relax :P**

Keith let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. With a ghost of a smile on he clicked away at his phone.

>> _excellent. 8 ish? I’ll ask around if anyone else is down!_

He didn’t.

~

Keith pushed the perpetually stuck door with as much control as he could. It was hard to open this door with any dignity. Lance never seemed to mind, throwing his full body against it and bursting into his home without a second thought. It had taken months of Keith knocking and waiting for Hunk, Lance, or Pidge’s increasingly exasperated “it’s open!” before coming in. Busting the door down still felt wrong.

“Hey! I’m finishing up dinner, do you want anything?” Lance called from the kitchen, emerging with the bowl of curry he had been too eager to sit down to eat.

“Naw, I’m good, thanks. I brought Valentine’s day cookies from my mum.” He set down the tin of exquisitely iced cookies his mother always overnighted for occasions like this.

“Ah man! You’re just trying to not eat them all! Why should my figure suffer for your loving parental relationship?” Lance had already opened the tin and grabbed a Sugar Hearts-style cookie that said “FOR-EVER” on it. “Wine?” he offered.

Keith smiled and nodded as Lance put down the bowl and started opening a bottle of red. He knew Lance usually drank beer, but he always switched to wine when it was just the two of them. Keith hated the taste of beer but would never have someone open a bottle just for his alcohol preferences. Lance had picked up on that fast and never even asked anymore. Whether it was for Keith’s sake or because knew it upped his chances of having a drinking buddy, Keith wasn’t sure.

They settled down and started discussing what movie to watch. The place was lit only by candles, a gesture that would have made Keith uncomfortable if it weren’t Lance’s MO. This is what drove Keith crazy. Did he think about it at all? Lance was always so affectionate with all of his friends, it would be presumptuous for Keith to think that he was any different. But every now and then he caught a softness in Lance’s expression beyond what he typically wore. Or Lance would smile fondly instead of making fun of Keith’s quirks. And it terrified him.

And yet.

Here he was, asking the boy to have a movie night and… sharing a couch, despite there being two others in the room. He couldn’t even plead coincidence—Lance always sat in the same spot. Keith wondered if Lance noticed these things. Whether he picked up on the degree to which Keith had let his guard down around him. (Keith would even return his offered high-fives sometimes). He doubted it. Normal people probably didn’t mind sitting next to one another or skin-to-skin contact. Why would someone read into extremely normal friend behavior? He couldn’t expect Lance to know just how high his walls were; high enough that he told all who even glanced their way to give up. Intimacy just wasn’t his thing. He was able to maintain plenty of great friendships and a pretty fulfilling life without it. And the best part? Everyone who stuck around him were the wonderful kind of people who respected boundaries and accepted him without question. Even nosey, loud, too-much-information Lance never pushed him. The worst he ever did was bump their arms together or go for a fist pound with the practiced ease of habit. It almost never happened unless he had been drinking, though. Keith knew Lance intentionally dampened his physicality for Keith’s comfort. He couldn’t decide if that was overwhelmingly sweet (cue alarm bells and running) or precisely the kindness he valued in a friend. In a friend.

“Gah I can’t find it for less than $20! Any other ideas?” Lance’s voice pulled him out of his reverie. Damn, he usually didn’t think this much. What the hell was going on?

“Uh… something light?”

“You’re the movie watcher dude, help me out here.” It was true, Lance almost exclusively watched anime and sitcoms. Keith was the one that watched every Oscar nominee each year. He didn’t want to make Lance sit through art right now, though. No doubt he would love it—he always did—but Keith wanted to hear him laugh. Ugh. Did he really just think that? They are _friends_. Okay?! He doubted he was even capable of anything else. And Lance definitely was… it would never work… _Oh my GOD_. He mentally shook himself.

“Have you seen How to be Single?” Keith’s newfound impulsivity took over.

“Nope. Is that a rom com?” Lance gave him a strange smile back. What the hell did that mean? Oh well, too late to change course now.

“Yep, my favorite one. I think you’d like it.” What was that look on Lance’s face? His usual smirking amusement, no surprise. But also, a little bit of shock, mixed with awe, and… that softness?

 

If there was anything but candlelight in the room Keith would have seen the color rising on his face as Lance bent over his laptop to find the movie.


End file.
